


Won't You Lay Me Down

by bella_my_clarke



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, So Much Softness, platonic sleeping together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 01:31:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13260792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bella_my_clarke/pseuds/bella_my_clarke
Summary: Bellamy's sleeping with Clarke, but it's not what you think.





	Won't You Lay Me Down

**Author's Note:**

> *mushu voice* i LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE
> 
> but seriously it's been twelve years but i hopefully have more on the way love yall thanks for sticking with me
> 
> also this was supposed to be a scene for my anastasia au (READ IT PLS THANKS I'M A SLUT FOR VALIDATION <3) but i decided it didn't fit so i tweaked it and put it in here instead
> 
> ~title from All the Pretty Girls~

Bellamy wondered if he should feel weirder about the whole  _sleeping with Clarke_  thing.

            Okay, when he phrased it like  _that_ , it definitely sounded weird. He wasn’t sleeping with her  _romantically_. They just...slept. In the same bed. Together. You know, platonically.

            It wasn’t like it just happened, either; they had started it because they had to. Clarke had a bad combination of nightmares and sleepwalking, and after she’d nearly walked into a lake in her sleep, her doctor decided someone should sleep by her until the new medicine could take effect. Bellamy had simply taken turns with their other roommates, Monty and Raven, and now that the sleepwalking was gone he’d just sort it...continued it, on his own.

            Also in his defense, he was sure the others would sleep with Clarke again (God, it still sounded so weird) if they knew she still got anxious about sleeping, but she’d only told him, as far as he knew—at least, he was the only one she’d asked to stay with her.

            Anyway, it wasn’t like Bellamy was going to stop—not when it seemed to help Clarke so much and let him be near her even more than before. (Yes, he was pathetic. That was nothing new.) So when everyone slipped off to their own rooms, Bellamy skirted his own and went to Clarke’s instead.

            She was already in her pajamas when he got there, beaming when she saw his face. “Hey, Bell.” (Oh, yeah. She’d also started calling him  _Bell_  sometimes, something he didn’t know what to think about, or how to think about it without thinking a lot of other things he shouldn’t’ve.)

            “Hey, Clarke,” he replied, going to the dresser and pulling pajama pants and a ratty old shirt out of his drawer (no comment). She turned her back as he changed – something he’d gotten disturbingly used to – and grumpily stopped hogging the whole bed so he could get in, too.

            After so many nights spent near each other, they no longer felt a desperate need to be touching or holding onto each other, though sometimes they did. Tonight, Clarke rolled onto her stomach while he laid on his back; she had her leg over his, but they weren’t really touching otherwise.

            Turning her head to the side, Clarke said, “Long day, huh?”

            Bellamy hadn’t been aware he was showing any signs of stress or exhaustion, but Clarke was good at reading him. “It usually is.”

            She frowned. “It shouldn’t have to be, though.”

            Despite himself, Bellamy felt the corner of his mouth lift a little bit. “Yeah, I know. But that’s how it is. That’s our lot, at least for right now.”

            “But it’ll be better someday,” Clarke insisted. “We’ll be able to just settle down, live normal lives, have long days or short days or any days we want.”

            Bellamy tried not to dwell on the word  _we_ , especially as a single entity. “Okay.”

            After a moment, Clarke reached out to slip her hand into Bellamy’s hair, stroking the curls with a distinct familiarity. “I wish I could make it better now,” she said, barely a whisper.

            “I know,” Bellamy replied, watching her carefully.

            “You deserve that,” she continued, firmly. “To be happy. To be happy  _now_.”

            Her hand stilled, resting against his cheek, and Bellamy put his hand over hers. “I  _am_  happy now,” he said, refusing to drop her gaze.

            Clarke had known him for too long to let him off too quickly. “You sure?”

            “Of course I am. I’ve got you, haven’t I?”

            She smiled softly at that, and Bellamy was glad it wasn’t a big surprise to her that she made him happy; he wasn’t exactly trying to hide it. Then she kept smiling, and looking at him, and Bellamy felt something...shift, a little. Her eyes lost some of their softness, though not in a bad way, and she seemed to lean in a little bit. For a couple of moments, her gaze dipped to his lips.

            Bellamy shifted to be more on his side, his hand going to her waist. “And you’ve got me,” he added, just in case she didn’t know.

            She nodded, but she didn’t seem to be focusing all that much on what he was saying. She rolled onto her side as well, scooting closer in the process, and looked at his lips again, more blatantly now. Bellamy wasn’t entirely sure if he was breathing or not.

            They drew close, noses brushing, and now Bellamy was  _really_  sure he wasn’t breathing.

            He held onto the moment, trying to decide how to proceed, when Clarke suddenly surged forward and kissed him, hard, but for only a second before she pulled away again, leaving him trailing after her for more.

            “What was that for?” he complained.

            She grinned and threaded her hand into his hair. “Sorry. I just wanted to kiss you first.”

            “It’s not a competition!”

            “You’re only saying that because you lost,” she teased.

            “Oh, whatever,” he grumbled, pushing forward to kiss her just to get her to stop.

            (Okay, it wasn’t  _just_  to get her to stop talking; that was more of a nice side effect.)

            Clarke didn’t seem to mind this intrusion of the conversation, wriggling forward to press her body against his and tilting her head to adjust the angle of the kiss. Bellamy let his hand slide down to her hip to hold her against him, his thumb slipping under her shirt to rub circles into her bare skin.

            “Mmm, okay, I’ll let this one be a tie,” Clarke breathed between kisses, still trying to force Bellamy closer.

            In response, Bellamy pushed her onto her back and slid on top of her without breaking contact. Clarke seemed to enjoy this position immensely, locking her heels around his legs and keeping one hand on his back to keep him close while the other hand explored, sliding down his neck and chest and back up again.

            The best part of the kiss, Bellamy decided, was how goddamn  _happy_  they both were during it—half the time they couldn’t quite make lip contact because their smiles were in the way, and they were teasing each other and laughing at nothing at all and  _this_ , this was what Clarke wanted for them. Being happy, the best way they knew how—together.

            Eventually, Bellamy forced himself to pull away a little, holding onto Clarke’s shoulder to prevent her from lifting up in pursuit. “Clarke,” he said, laughing as she grumbled and tried to wriggle out of his grip, “we need to sleep. Work starts early tomorrow, remember?”

            “We can take a day off,” she suggested.

            He rolled his eyes, scolding. “Clarke.”

            “Fine, fine,” she grumbled. “But only if we can continue this tomorrow.”

            “Of course we will. Whenever you want.”

            Relief filled Clarke’s eyes, but she went for a joke instead. “Well, then what about now?”

            “ _Clarke_. I’ll kiss you in the morning, I swear, but if we don’t get our sleep we’ll both be grumpy and then I might not  _want_  to kiss you.”

            She gasped in mock outrage. “You wouldn’t.”

            “Don’t test me,” he replied, raising an eyebrow, but it kind of lost its edge when he leaned down and kissed her again; not long, just to feel her lips on his again.

            Clarke arched into the kiss, but let him go when he pulled away. “Okay, okay. Kissing in the morning. I’ll take it.”

            “Good,” he said, giving her one last peck before rolling off. (Yeah, okay, he had a problem with stopping. But it was  _Clarke_.  _Kissing him._  That seemed like a good enough excuse to get away with just about anything.)

            Clarke rolled beside him immediately, abandoning the previous lightly-touching position to lay basically on top of him, her leg thrown over his hips and her face pressed into his neck. He slipped one hand under her shirt to splay against her back – which she was a fan of, if the little purr she gave was any indication – and took to petting her hair with the other.

            “Tomorrow,” Clarke whispered against him, content and halfway to sleep.

            “Tomorrow,” Bellamy agreed, and closed his eyes.

 --

Bellamy woke to tiny kisses, barely whispers of touch, going up his neck. He sighed a little, stroking Clarke’s back in encouragement, and she kissed her way up and across his jaw to find his lips.

            “So you’re finally up,” she murmured, the teasing lilt in her voice lost to the breathiness as she slipped her tongue into his mouth.

            “Sleep is important, Clarke Griffin,” he recited, but with the way she crawled on top of him, her body touching his everywhere, he kind of wished he’d woken up sooner.

            “You said tomorrow, and it’s tomorrow,” she shot back, getting distracted by his neck again. “I’m not that patient of a person, you know.”

            “Yeah, I guessed,” Bellamy said, his breath hitching a little when she found the spot behind his ear. “God, I love you, Clarke.”

            Clarke paused for just half a second, and instinctively panic welled in Bellamy’s chest, but then she was finding his mouth again and smiling almost too hard to kiss him properly. “That’s good, though I’m not sure if God has much to do about it.” Then she pulled away to look at him, drawing her knuckles across his cheek with the kind of gentleness that made Bellamy remember why he first fell in love with this girl. “I love you, too.”

            It wasn’t too much of a surprise, but Bellamy grinned widely anyway, pulling her down for a kiss that was long and deep and loving. “Good,” he managed to say around the warmth blossoming outwards from his heart. “That’s good.”

            And God, it was.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm a slut for comments <3


End file.
